Sailing De Novo

April is a cold time to sail. I should clarify: this April has been a cold time to sail. We've seen more snow from the cockpit on this cruise than on any of our winter ones, with the most recent flurry just a few days ago. Most nights have fallen below freezing.  De Novo doesn't have a diesel generator or big battery bank. We've always relied on our array of solar panels and the rare boost from our engine alternator to keep our batteries charged. And in the past, this has been enough, even in summer in Alaska. But we've relied on our forced air heating system more on this trip than others. Its electrical draw has been challenging at anchor, especially on days with a lack of sunlight to power our panels. This means allocating heater use and often sacrificing comfort for precious battery hours. So you can imagine our frustration when, on a frosty morning in Porteau Cove with full cloud cover, we turned on our engine and our alternator stopped working. We found it wasn

On  xʷənen̕əč/ Salt Spring Island Tell me, what is it you plan to do  with your one wild and precious life? --Mary Oliver I've thought about this question often. Throughout our lives, we learn our worth closely correlates with our schooling, our careers, and how many hours we devote to these pursuits per week. We learn we need to earn our worth as people, and any deviation from this path is selfish, entitled, lazy, and impractical.  I've spent years shedding this notion. It's silly. Ms. Oliver is right: we each have one wild and precious life. And with mine, I plan to Sail. Hike. Explore. Love. Learn new things and meet new people. At least for now. And thank goodness Dave chooses to do the same.  As you may know, we took a break from our careers, sold our car, and terminated our moorage agreement, so we are now officially nomadic. Home is wherever De Novo is. And it's rad. As I write this post, our home is anchored in secluded Ch’á7elsm/  Hawkett Bay on  Chá7elkwnech